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So they called it in
The Movies
whistle sometimes hoarse as a dying studio Injun'.
“Where it come from, where? ” Mike
asked.
Rigby.
Portsmouth. Boston. New York. Mexico?
Boston
&Maine
runs through the Backyard. “I hate that train
too
Loud.”
The federal government incurred record
Debt
feeding
That Horse. “Where it going, where? ”
Back to
Boston.
Up to Waterville. Bangor. Canada? The
loons
trudge
Along the wet land surrounding the
Gazebo
(behind
the group home) , dewy nibs and footslog ballet ‘til she
unfurls
destiny’s
nares, chasing them much as a hungry
stray
cat
Scattered them day before yesterday, temporarily
Shouting
Down
the mellifluous brook song, rolling, rattling, snortin’. “Where that
train
going,
Where? ”
Cretan Maineiac
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (Iron Horse by Cretan Maineiac)
Cheryl Moyer (8/14/2007 10:19:00 PM)
CHRIS -
TRAINS ARE MY PREFERRED MODE OF TRAVEL. SURE, IT TAKES LONGER, BUT YOU MERGE WITH THE LANDSCAPE, CAN MOVE AROUND AT WILL, RELAX AND WRITE WHERE NO CELL PHONES, 'CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW'.
I REALLY LIKED THIS CONDENSATION OF RAIL HISTORY!
BEST - CHERYL |
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